Wild Wolf

by Karen Whiddon

  After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “Sure. Let’s discuss whether you’re strong enough to keep your wolf shape for a few more days so we can move on.”

  This time, she looked away. Staring at the fire, she scratched the back of her head. “I wish I could, but I’m not like you. I can go back and forth between shapes like you do, but not if I stay wolf too long. As you know, three days is my limit. I tried, but I drained myself trying to exceed that. I need time to recover.”

  “How long?”

  She frowned. “I don’t know. A couple of days. What about the other Protector? Do you think he’s close?” She hated having to ask, especially since they had no choice but to stay at least until she could change again.

  “I don’t know.” With a wry smile, he crossed to the window and stared out at the blindingly white landscape.

  “At least the storm will make it difficult for him to track us. We should be safe here for a day or two.”

  She swallowed, absurdly on the verge of tears. “My pack hunts without me.”

  His look told her he understood. “Do you want me to go with them?”

  Her shrug fooled neither of them. “If you want. I think they’ll accept you now.”

  Without another word, he went to the door and opened it. Dropping to the ground, he changed. Then, as wolf, he disappeared into the woods to find her pack.

  Raven didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as she watched Simon change. No exhaustion for him. When he shifted, the act seemed to be second nature. He wanted to be wolf, to hunt, so he became wolf. And left. Exactly as she longed to do and couldn’t.

  Chest tight, she stared after him. Then, as a blast of frigid air hit her, she moved to close the door. Human, alone, she paced the cabin, trying to understand what was happening and why.

  A wave of fury swamped her. Clenching her fists, she cursed, using words she vaguely remembered from her teenage years. She was Alpha, the most powerful. She provided for her pack, for herself. She’d been content until he came along.

  And now? Now she was the weakest link. Simon, a man she had to struggle to continue to dislike, had assumed the role of Alpha. Worse, she had no choice but to let him…for now. His shape-shifting skills were far superior to hers. This despite the fact that he’d been ill from blood loss. His strength irked her to no end.

  She sighed. There were things he could teach her, if time permitted. Time. Since when had time become her enemy? Exhaustion rolled over her like a steamroller. Settling in front of the fire, she curled into a ball and tried to sleep.

  Some time later, Simon and half of her pack returned. He pawed at the door until Raven woke and opened it, then came inside. Shaking off the snow, he lay down near the fire, letting the flames warm his fur.

  Even as wolf, his masculine beauty astounded her. She studied the lean, elegant lines of him, admiring his silver-gray, glossy fur, perfect muzzle and deep-set, warm eyes.

  Simon.

  He cocked his head, watching her watch him. Then, rising gracefully, he padded to the door and whined, pushing at the wood with his paw.

  Raven rose. When she opened the door, two more of her wild wolves padded inside. The smaller of the two, a gray-and-brown female, came to Raven and dropped a freshly killed rabbit on the floor in front of her. The other wolf did the same with another rabbit for Simon.

  Stunned, Raven put her hand to her throat. By this, her pack demonstrated they accepted them both as Alpha. Only mates were usually accorded this honor. And she and Simon were definitely not mates.

  Chuffing his thanks for the meat, Simon glanced away and changed. A second later, he was man again.

  Startled, Raven blinked. Coherent thought vanished as he rose, naked and lithe, picked up the rabbit and began readying it to cook over the fire. All without sparing her a second glance.

  “Let me do that,” she told him.

  “No.” Still not looking at her, Simon shook his head. “You need to conserve your strength. The rabbit’s for you—I’ve already eaten.”

  Though she should have been furious that he thought he could tell her what to do, she knew he was right. As much as she hated to admit it, regaining her strength so she could change and keep her wolf shape had to be top priority.

  Suddenly ravenous, she didn’t even let the rabbit finish cooking before plucking it from the spit and devouring it. Only when she’d picked the bones clean did she raise her head to realize he, like the rest of her wild pack, watched her.

  “Thank you.”

  With a faint smile, he dipped his chin, acknowledging her words. “I can see you were hungry.”

  Though her heart had started thundering at his smile, she forced herself to keep still, to appear calm and unmoved. “Yes,” she said, turning away.

  “What is it you do when you change?” He asked the question in such a low voice she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.

  “Do?” She stared at her hands, turning them over and inspecting them as though she expected to find something. Anything was better than looking at him. “What do you mean?”

  “You always say something, like a prayer, right before you shape-shift. What do you say?”

  “That? It’s a ritual. Ever since I was small and learned I had this…talent, I asked for a blessing from the spirit of the wolves.”

  “Spirit of the…? What do you mean?”

  She shrugged, pretending not to care. For some reason, she knew if he ridiculed her, his scorn would hurt. “Native American lore, I guess. We were studying that in elementary school and I really identified with their beliefs. They hold that everything has a spirit. I figured since I’d been allowed to become wolf, I’d better take care to appease the wolf spirit.”

  Simon nodded. “Okay. Makes sense now.”

  Now she chanced looking at him. “You believe that, too?”

  “I’m not sure.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “But I’ve heard others mention that before. Most of the U.S. pack holds to traditional Christian beliefs, but I’ve noticed the western half of the country tends to dabble more in other forms of spirituality. I suppose anything’s possible.”

  Turning to fully face him, she took a deep breath. “Were you always able to stay wolf so long? Or did this ability come over time, with practice and training?”

  The fire cracked, lighting the room with a flickering, amber glow. He stared at her, his eyes dark, his expression unreadable. “We learned in Protector training. This takes time and patience. Over the years, I’ve built up, one hour at a time.”

  “Great,” she said glumly. “Patience has never been my strong suit.”

  He laughed, warming her from the inside out. “Maybe once we get past all this, I can teach you.”

  She couldn’t help but smile back, unable to imagine even the idea that they would have any kind of a future.

  Two days passed. Two long, endless days during which Simon hunted with Raven’s wild pack and Raven remained in the cabin, growing increasingly sullen.

  The weather continued to hold, though on the morning of the third day, the slate-gray sky and icy wind once again threatened snow.

  Raven looked out the window, frowning. She’d let her wolf pack out and they’d all vanished to relieve themselves and play in the snow. Soon, they would also hunt. Without her. Simon must have known how badly this frustrated her. This time he’d stayed behind, remaining with her in the cabin.

  “Simon, I think I’m all right now.” She gestured at their dwindling woodpile. “We’ve stayed here too long. It’s time to go. We need to get moving before the next snowstorm hits.”

  With a nod, he acknowledged the truth of her words. “The other Protector will be on the move, hunting us. You’re right, it’s time to move on. Do you think you can change into wolf now?”

  “I’ll try today. I’ve had plenty of time to heal.” She tried to sound confident, even though inside her stomach churned.

  “Good. We’ll go as far as we can, but won’t stretch your endu
rance this time. I need you to be in good shape in case something happens.”

  “I want to go for three days again.”

  “Why? You know how badly that sapped you before.”

  “I’ll do what I have to do,” she said stiffly. “We can cover a good bit of ground in three days.”

  “We’re stopping at two.”

  She gave him a sharp glance. “Fighting over who’s Alpha?”

  “Working as a team.”

  Did she have a choice? Biting her lip, finally she jerked her head in a begrudging nod. “Fine.”

  One brow rose. “Does that bother you?”

  Shrugging, she looked away, hating how easily he read her. She’d never realized she was so transparent. “Maybe it does,” she admitted. “A little.”

  He grinned. “Get over it.”

  She caught her breath, muttering half to herself. “Damn. That ought to be classified a deadly weapon.”

  “What?”

  “Your smile.” She flashed him one of her own, wishing she could knock the air from him, as well.

  He gave no reaction. Instead, he started for the door. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go hunt and round up the pack. When I get back, we’ll eat. Do you think you’ll be ready to change by then?”

  “Again you’re acting like you’re the leader.”

  He froze, his gaze sweeping over her. “We’re a team, remember?”

  Clenching her teeth, she stubbornly shook her head. “No, we’re not a team. We’re not mates. Only mates can be a team. In the wild, you have to fight me if you want to challenge me for the role of Alpha.”

  “Fight you?” He appeared astonished. “You really want me to fight you? Is that what you want?”

  She bit her lip, staring him down, hating herself for the tight ache in the back of her throat. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I’m used to being on my own.”

  “Then get un-used to that. It’s me and you now. A team.”

  Unsmiling, she didn’t acknowledge his words. “By the time you get back, I’ll be ready to change.”

  With a curt nod, he dropped to the floor and became wolf. Raven let him out. She watched him as he bounded across the crusty snow, his silver coat blending with the white winter landscape.

  After he’d gone, she refused to give in to the urge to cry. She had no reason to weep, no reason at all. Plus she needed to conserve her strength for the ordeal ahead.

  Actually, she was glad Simon had intuitively given her time alone to attempt to change. If she failed, there wouldn’t be any witnesses.

  Except she wouldn’t fail. She missed her pack and wanted to join them on the hunt.

  Opening the door wide enough to be able to push the rest of the way with her wolf snout, she built up the fire so it would burn well in her absence.

  She took a deep breath and unwrapped the tattered bedspread, her makeshift robe. Then, dropping to all fours, she closed her eyes and willed herself to change.

  At first, she felt nothing. Just the beat of her heart pounding in her chest. She concentrated harder, picturing herself as wolf. A moment later, as her bones lengthened and shifted, she felt a flash of triumph. Her strength had returned, as she’d known it would.

  Exhilaration roaring through her veins, Wolf-Raven padded to the door and nudged it open.

  And startled the man standing on the doorstep, about to enter the cabin.

  Raven didn’t take the time to think—with a snarl, she launched her entire, ninety-odd pounds at the stranger’s legs, knocking the man backward into the snow.

  He shoved her away, pushing himself to his feet and circling the stoop, placing himself so the building was at his back.

  “Feral,” he snarled.

  The hated word infuriated her. Baring her teeth, she bunched her hindquarters and launched herself at him again.

  He kicked at her, catching her squarely in the chest, but unable to stop her momentum, which carried her past him into the side of the building.

  The force of the impact dazed her. Struggling to her feet, she whimpered low in her throat, shaking her head to try and clear it. Dimly, she was conscious of the intruder, ripping off his clothes. He meant to change! This meant he wasn’t merely some stranger or the cabin’s rightful owner come to check on the place. He had to be the other Protector, come here to kill her.

  Chapter 7

  S ound traveled far in the clear, thin air. Snarls and growls, large jaws snapping—the sounds of a battle. Simon froze, lifting his head. The three wolves near him did the same.

  Raven! Leaving his freshly killed meal half-eaten, Simon took off for the cabin, running full-out. The other wolves did the same.

  He burst from the trees, spotting the cabin. Two wolves fought in the bloody snow near the door. Raven’s blood, or the other’s?

  Luckily, the other Protector—who else could it be?—wasn’t expecting Simon. Without stopping, Simon crashed into the other wolf, sending him backward into the building. He hit with a crash and a grunt, and went down.

  Simon turned to find Raven. She stood near the doorstep, sides heaving.

  The other wolf struggled to his feet, leaping at Simon with a snarl.

  Raven went for his hindquarters. Simon ducked low and went for the chest.

  Two against one. All is fair in war, and this was definitely war.

  The newcomer tumbled, rolling in the snow. In a flash, Simon was on top of him, jaw locked around his throat.

  Eyes wild, the other shuddered and changed back to human.

  Still, Simon did not release him.

  “You won’t dare kill me,” the man rasped, shivering from cold or fear or both. “That would be a death sentence for you both.”

  Raven grinned, showing her long, sharp teeth. Simon knew what she was thinking. This man had already planned to deliver a death sentence for her.

  “Let me go,” their captive ordered. “Right now.”

  Simon didn’t move. He looked from Raven to the cabin, and back, hoping she’d understand.

  Dipping her muzzle, she trotted to the doorstep, then inside. Once there, she changed back to human, poking her head out the doorway.

  “Let me find something to tie him with.” And she disappeared inside.

  Simon continued to hold on. When the man squirmed beneath him, he tightened his mouth, letting the other know if he made one wrong move, Simon would rip out his throat.

  A moment later, Raven reappeared. She’d wrapped her bedspread around her and tied it, making an impromptu gown. “I found some rope in the closet. Let’s see what we can do with this.”

  While she tied the man’s hands tightly, Simon held him immobile. As she bound his feet, Simon gradually relaxed his grip.

  The man began to struggle against the ties.

  Quickly, Simon changed to human. “Help me get him inside.”

  Raven nodded and by lifting under the man’s arms, together they were able to drag him inside.

  “Your name?” Simon demanded.

  “Heath. Heath Whearly. What’s wrong with you?” The other Protector glared at Simon. “Have you gone insane?”

  “Just trying to do my job.”

  “Do your job?” Incredulous, Heath glanced at Raven. “You’ve taken up with a Feral.”

  Raven hissed. “Seriously, I hate that word.”

  “A Feral.” Heath ignored her. “Taboo number one in the Code of Ethics. On top of that, you’ve disobeyed orders. You know the law. If a Feral attacks, you must exterminate.”

  “She didn’t attack me. One of her wild wolves did.”

  Heath’s expression showed he didn’t believe him. “Ross heard it all on your transmitter. You were taken off the case. Why are you lying for her? She’s a Feral.” He said the last word with a smug smile directed at Raven.

  She took a step toward him. “If I ever wanted to attack someone…” She showed her teeth.

  “Do it,” he goaded. “Attack me. Why not? You’ve already earned a death sentence.�
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  Biting back a growl, Raven shook her head and turned away.

  “See?” Now Heath directed his remarks to Simon. “Ferals don’t deserve our compassion. Come on, you’re the Terminator, man. You’re legendary. You should know that better than anyone.”

  “The Terminator?” Raven frowned. “What does that mean?”

  Before Simon could answer, Heath did. “He’s famous in the Society. We call him the Terminator because of his record number of kills.” He grinned at her. “When I speak of kills, I’m talking about Ferals. In his career, Simon’s killed more Ferals than any other Protector in the history of our kind.”

  One look at Simon’s face, and Raven knew Heath was telling the truth.

  “Were you really sent just to kill me?” she asked.

  “I was sent to evaluate you.” His expression gave nothing away.

  “And then kill you,” Heath put in.

  “Not necessarily,” Simon shot back. “I really think she can be rehabilitated.”

  With a snort, Heath shook his head. Despite the situation in which he now found himself, he didn’t seem too worried. His arrogance made Raven dislike him even more.

  “Have you ever rehabilitated a Feral?”

  “Of course I have.” From Simon’s thunderous expression, he’d like to throttle the other man.

  “How many?” Raven asked, keeping her gaze on Simon, amazed that she managed to sound so calm. “How many have you saved and how many have you killed?”

  Heath snickered.

  “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  Odd how she felt so betrayed, by a man she barely knew.

  She opened her mouth. “But—”

  “Not now.”

  As she prepared to argue, Heath pushed-jumped, propelling his body up. Though his hands and feet were still bound, he launched himself at Raven.

  Startled, Raven tried to spin out of the way, but she was too slow.

  Heath hit her hard. They fell, she scrambled to get out from under him. With a snarl of triumph, Heath changed.

  Simon slammed him over the head with a log. Instantly limp, Heath’s body reverted back to completely human.